


Uh... married?

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: if you will marry me [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Selkies, how does emile exist? i'll tell you, inspired by a tumblr post, its my story and I Can Do What I Want, selkie!patton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 13:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Logan is surrounded by hopeless romantics. Pray for him.





	Uh... married?

When Logan had first moved to this tiny fishing village, he had considered it a practicality rather than something he  _wanted_.

After all, where better to write his books than in a place where he only had to go into town once a week and nobody ever spoke to him?

But while isolation did translate to an abundance of productivity, Logan found himself growing fond of the town itself, and to a lesser extent, the people in it. Especially the small, rickety-looking restaurant – Virgil’s -  that was right along his way into town, who’s titular owner, had little patience for nonsense and even less for chit-chat.

After coming to said restaurant every Sunday for a month at precisely eight o’clock, he noticed that every time after that his favorite table seemed to be empty. And Virgil ceased seating him entirely, merely jerking his head towards the table when Logan entered and bringing him his coffee without asking before taking his order.

When Logan entered on this day, however, Virgil seemed preoccupied with a very tall man Logan had seen a handful of times, both around town and at the restaurant. Virgil was wearing an uncharacteristically soft expression and Logan resolved to simply seat himself and wait patiently for Virgil to be finished.

The restaurant was empty but for one other person, who of course was seated at the table just next to Logan’s. He supposed it made sense to group patrons near each other, making it easier to go from table to table.

Unfortunately this meant Logan had to brush just a hair to close to the other patron, and knocked the mans – strangely heavy, for the weather – coat onto the floor.

“Oh, I apologize,” said Logan, stooping to pick the coat from the floor. He draped it back in its place over the back of the chair.

“Your coat is very nice,” he said conversationally.

And then he actually  _looked_  at the other man.

He was looking at Logan with huge, liquid brown eyes, wide with astonishment, and his cheeks were a lovely rose color and… Logan cleared his throat and tried to sound neutral.

“Have a lovely day,” he said in a slightly strained voice, walking away quickly before he did something even more embarrassing than simply gawk, like, heaven forbid, attempt to  _flirt_ with the most attractive man he’d ever seen.

He sat on the opposing side he usually did so his back was to the other man. Better to eliminate the temptation to stare entirely rather than be caught doing it accidentally.

Virgil approached Logan’s table with a mischievous smile.

“I saw you met Patton,” he said, amused.

“I can find another place to have breakfast,”

“You can but we both know you won’t,” said Virgil, “What kind of toast are you using as the vehicle for your jam today?”

“Whole wheat,” said Logan through gritted teeth.

Virgil wrote it down and then leaned in slyly.

“If you’d sat on the right side you’d know he hasn’t stopped staring at you since you sat down,”

Logan’s ear were burning – he was sure they were crimson.

“Roman’s money’s on Patton talking to you first – do me a solid and don’t be a chicken and I won’t even charge you today,”

“This is incredibly unprofessional,” Logan hissed.

Virgil shrugged, “Call me invested in the continued happiness of my two best customers. And Roman’s a sucker for a love story, so also the continued happiness of my husband,”

He smirked and marched back to the kitchen. Since he was facing it now, Logan could see Roman and Virgil exchange conspiratorial whispers, occasionally looking back at the tables. Roman had the audacity to wave.

Logan knew he couldn’t spontaneously combust on command, but he was mortified enough that he considered that to be a massive design flaw in the human body.

He’d never eaten his breakfast so quickly in his life, and he ended up giving Virgil what probably amounted to a 100% tip because he didn’t want to wait for his change. The comically wide berth he gave Patton’s table probably made him look even more ridiculous, but Logan figured he couldn’t afford to be concerned with dignity at the moment.

As he shrugged his jacket on and started to walk along the dirt road that led to his house, he heard the door slam behind him and jumped around.

Patton was rushing down the restaurant steps, his eyes and cheeks bright and his coat slung over his arm.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly.

Logan obviously knew English – he was an author for goodness sake.

So why could he not think of a single word at this moment?

Patton giggled and Logan thought of the sound of waves against clean sand, which was absurdly poetic and frankly, nauseating.

“You’re Logan Picani, right? The author who lives up by the lighthouse?”

Logan cleared his throat awkwardly.

“ _Ahem,_ I- um. Yes, I am.”

Patton grinned, and then reached out and grabbed Logan’s hand, holding it his chest.

“Will you be coming back tomorrow?” he said sweetly.

Logan  _might_  have to amend his stance on the possibility of spontaneous human combustion.

“I- yes. Certainly,” he said, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

But Patton didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he then proceeded to  _kiss Logan’s hand._

“ _Have a nice day!”_ Logan choked quickly, before speed walking down the road back towards his house like he was being chased by a particularly nippy terrier.

And when he turned the corner and saw Patton in the corner of his eye, standing in the same spot with a besotted expression, Logan figured he had the rest of the day to figure out how he was going to act like a rational human being when he saw him again tomorrow.

* * *

Logan had never been to Virgil’s on a weekday, and quickly realized his typical time slot was much more palatable.

His preferred table was not free, and the dining room was packed, so Logan sat on the mostly empty deck. It was only around sixty-five degrees, but the sky was cloudy and gray and nobody seemed to want to risk the rain.

_This is ridiculous,_  Logan thought,  _I didn’t even have the sense to ask what time Patton would be here._

And Logan was sure he would hear no end of pointed comments if he was here for longer than an hour, on top of coming in on a day he never had before.

He was so focused on berating himself that he didn’t see Patton coming until the other man was already sliding into the seat opposite him.

“Hi, Logan!” he said, out of breath like he’d been running. Logan concentrated on sounding like an actual human being when he replied.

“Good morning, Patton,” he said.

Patton grinned, and then, without any sort of explanation, set a velvet box in front of Logan.

Logan looked between the box and Patton’s grinning face several times.

“It’s for you, silly!” said Patton.

Logan hesitantly reached out and opened the box.

Nestled in the silk was a silver band studded with several tiny diamonds. Logan sputtered.

“I mean- it’s- this is lovely, um, Patton, but why-?”

Patton tilted his head innocently.

“Well, I just… I thought you would want to get married according to human customs, too?”

Logan stared.

“…married?”

Patton continued to grin.

Logan ran his finger over the bumps of the little jewels.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to start from the beginning,”

* * *

“And that’s how I met your father,” said Patton, running his hands through Emile’s hair.

“Why did you run away Papa?” Emile asked.

“Generally human’s do not marry people they have just met,” said Logan dryly, “Deliberately or accidentally. I an hardly be blamed for being confused,”

“But Dad’s not human, he’s a selkie,”

“How was I to know that, Emile? As I said, I had just met him,”

“But you were in  _love_ ,” Emile insisted.

Logan restrained an amused smile.

“Well, yes. But there are several steps involved in the process that we skipped,”

“We didn’t  _skip_  them,” Patton admonished, “Which just got around to them in a different order,”

“Regardless, the original point stands,” said Logan, “You cannot leave your coat unattended, Emile. Your father was distracted for only a moment and now we are married,”

“But you’re in  _love,”_

Logan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You will not necessarily be in love with the first person to pick up your coat. We were very lucky, and you cannot rely on chance in such a situation,”

Emile seemed to think on that for a moment.

Then his face lit up.

“I know!” he said, “I’ll just give my coat to Remy! I already love him,”

Logan choked, as Patton began to make a series of besotted cooing noises.

“Absolutely not,” insisted Logan, “You cannot give your coat to anyone until you are eighteen, and least of all Roman Prince’s son,”

“But that’s so far awaaaaaaay,” said Emile, “And I love him!”

“That’s so sweet!” whispered Patton, clearly delighted.

Logan looked between his husband, who proposed to Logan after knowing him for only slightly more than twenty four hours, and his son who, at the tender age of eight-and-a-half, had apparently already decided who he was going to marry.

“We’ll discuss it in the morning,” he said fondly.

He was clearly outnumbered anyway. Best to bring in Virgil. He was going to need back-up.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell about sanders sides with me at tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com


End file.
